


You can get anything you want (at Stiles Restaurant)

by Akabit



Series: Stiles Resturant [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Bisexual Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Everyone has to eat, Hate Crimes, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Slow Build, Vegetarians & Vegans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-20 01:01:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2409347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akabit/pseuds/Akabit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one goes hungry at Stiles Restaurant.  From vampires to vegan localvores, Stiles enjoys the challenge of meeting any any set of dietary requirements with tasty and environmentally conscious options.  When the surviving Hales return to town, Stiles has to balance running his restaurant with negotiating territory for Laura Hale's pack.  It would all be much simpler if everyone in the town was happy about the new arrivals, but Beacon Hills has a complicated history with supernatural rights.  Stiles knows things are getting better, but that doesn't make them easy.  Especially because Laura’s brother is confusing and attractive.</p>
<p>or</p>
<p>Stiles serves supernaturals super and wonders when his life became a Portlandia sketch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thursday: Virgin Blood Marys

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a reference to [Alice's Restaurant](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m57gzA2JCcM).

_ Ingredients: _

  * _2 lemon wedges_

  * _2 oz Vodka_

  * _4 oz blood (pig or cow)_

  * _2 dashes Tabasco Sauce_

  * _2 dashes Worcestershire sauce_

  * _generous pinch of Stiles secret spice mix_




_ Instructions: _

_Salt the rim of a pint glass and half fill it with ice. Squeeze lemons into a cocktail shaker. Add all ingredients to the cocktail shaker and shake well.  Pour into prepared pint glass. Add celery or marrow bone depending on customer preference. $150 extra for fresh virgin human blood._

*******************

Stiles was very glad he had decided that his cafe would only host vampire nights once a month. Not because he was dizzy from Scott drawing his blood earlier in the day.  No, he knew exactly how to deal with that.  Stiles disliked vampire nights because he always had to deal with at least one pretentious bastard.

"Can you tell me a little bit about the source of the human virgin blood?" Asked the most recent winner of the persnickety prick award.

"Of course, the blood comes from a local 26 year old virgin male who eats a health conscious omnivore diet." Stiles often wondered when his life became a Portlandia sketch. He had put the virgin blood cocktail on the menu for the first vampire night as a joke. It seemed unlikely that anyone would want to buy a $159 drink at a casual cafe.  To his shock, he sold out in under an hour. Demand had waned slightly as the novelty wore off, but he had yet to have any of his blood go to waste.

"And how was it harvested?" The customer wore a slightly superior expression as if he was the first person to be so ethical as to ask these questions.

"It was drawn this morning by a qualified medical professional and the human received generous compensation for the sale."

This was not completely true. Scott was actually a supernatural medicine resident at Beacon Hills General and Stiles didn't pay himself anything for his own blood.  But he owned the cafe and received all the profits so he figured it was close enough.

"Can I meet the source to ask him further questions?" The vampire had just been upgraded from pretentious to creepy.

"No," Stiles said firmly. Initially, he had kept the source secret because he didn't want to publicly announce to all his patrons that he was a virgin.  Then, two years ago one of the customers became obsessed with the virgin blood.  He hired a witch to scry for the  donor and tried to take a large sample directly from Stiles carotid artery.  Fortunately, he was stupid enough to make the attack right after closing while Boyd was doing kitchen prep for the next day. The vampire was lucky to have lived long enough to make it to prison. The Beacon Hills supernatural community was very protective of its favorite restaurateur.

"Hmm," mused the vampire. "That all sounds good, but I'd better go with the pig's blood just in case." Of course he would.  Stiles quickly prepared the drink.  At least the creep tipped well.

Stiles wiped the counter with a cloth and turned his attention to the next patron.  Stiles was glad that working around so many supernaturals had gotten him used to interacting with ridiculously beautiful people.  In front of him stood muscular perfection with just the right amount of stubble. Vampires tended towards slender builds and haughty expressions so he glanced at his enchanted mirror. Stiles wasn't surprised to see the stranger's reflection had glowing eyes and claws. He handed the werewolf the supernatural carnivore and standard omnivore menus.

"Welcome to Stiles Restaurant.  Tonight our specials are designed for a vampire pallet, but all of our regular menu items are still available." The man didn't even glance at the menus.

"Do you have any hearts available?" he asked. Stiles was a little surprised. Most werewolves stuck to a mostly human diet this close to the new moon.

"Absolutely," responded Stiles. "At the moment we have pig, cow, and chicken hearts."  Stiles didn't believe in obfuscating the source of meat by calling it pork or beef.  He thought that if you were going to eat meat, you should acknowledge you were eating an animal.

"Which is the freshest?" The man asked grumpily.

"The chicken and cow hearts are fresh, but the pig hearts have been frozen." Actually they were still frozen, but Stiles was more than willing to thaw one out.  Stiles took great pride in his ability to meet almost any set of dietary requirements with delicious food.

"I will take one raw cow heart and an order of fries to go," the werewolf looked slightly disgusted at his own order. Stiles smiled warmly to indicate that he shouldn't be ashamed of his taste.  He served odder combinations on a daily basis.

"Coming right up," he punched the order into the computer system that informed the kitchen and kept track of tabs. "If you enjoy fresh organ meat, you may be interested in our fresh game Wednesdays.  It is the first week of deer season so there should be a great crowd."

The werewolf grunted and looked uncomfortable.  Stiles made a mental note to mention him to Scott. It wasn't healthy for werewolves to be socially isolated.  There hadn't been real pack in Beacon Hills since the surviving Hales left.  Scott McCall was the de facto leader of the local were population because Dr. Deaton had identified him as a potential True Alpha.  Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you wanted to look at it, he had not achieved alpha status because nothing bad enough had happened to trigger the change.

"Why don't you have a seat. We will bring it out to you when it is ready," Stiles continued.  The man gave Stiles a hard look and stalked off to seat himself at a table far from the bar.

Stiles intended to take the meal out to the new customer himself, but he ended up spending the next ten minutes mixing drinks for a group of regulars and catching up on all the gossip. Apparently, the werewolves were worked up about something, but the vampires didn't know what because the two species rarely got along. When he looked up, his waitress, Erica, was handing the man his food. Stiles paused to watch their interactions.  Erica liked to flirt.  The regulars knew she was happily married to Boyd, the chef, but occasionally newcomers got the wrong impression. However, to Stiles surprise, the stranger was comfortably chatting with Erica.  He smiled, exposing unfairly adorable bunny teeth. Stiles wondered why the people he found attractive inevitably hated him on sight.

Of course he knew this was only half his problem. Sparks were in the odd situation that they were not on the legal list of supernatural beings. This was largely because they could easily pass as fully human and most chose to do so.  The unfortunate side effect of this was that if sparks choose to be honest about their abilities they received all the discrimination, but none of the explicit legal protections granted to listed supernatural beings.  Stiles knew it was going to take a special person to want to date a bisexual spark.  In the mean time, he could sell virgin blood cocktails.

The rest of the night passed quickly. Stiles was distracted from his contemplative mood by serving a string of familiar customers.  He sternly reminded himself that even though he didn't have a sweetie, he had a ton of friends and a valued place in his community.

When he had opened his restaurant, Stiles had promised himself that he would find a way to feed every population that was underserved by the meager restaurant options of Beacon Hills.  On the wall next to the entrance, he proudly displayed a large calendar detailing a schedule of specials customized to appeal to everyone from selkies to vegan localvores. The calendar was held to the wall by stickers from over a dozen social justice organizations. By creating a place everyone could eat he had also created a safe place for everyone to gather.

As he closed out the register, he wondered if perhaps he should make vampire night twice a month after all.  They were annoying but always highly profitable. Maybe he could finance a special night for one of the lower income species using the extra money.  He casually bickered with Erica about if he was running a business or a charity as they wiped tables, stacked chairs, and got ready for the next day. 


	2. Friday: Seafood Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friday is not Stiles longest day, but it is the most complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am part of a large, loving, and slightly crazy multi-faith family. Although I was mostly raised Jewish, I rarely thought about dietary laws until I started dating a man who kept a kosher kitchen. The precautions described in this chapter would have been sufficient for my husband when he kept kosher, but standards vary. I have no personal experience feeding Selkies so I cannot comment on their needs ;-)

_ Ingredients: _

  * _Mixed fresh seafood_




_ Instructions: _

_**For selkies:** Remove large bones from fish (leave skin and pin bones).  Cut all seafood into matchbook sized pieces. Arrange a selection of fresh raw seafood attractively on a plate._

_**For omnivores (human or supernatural):** See recipes for fish boil, grilled fish, and/or mixed seafood chowder. All meals except fish boil include a starch and vegetable choice._

_**For observant Jews:** Most whole fish with scales and fins are automatically kosher, but double check unfamiliar fish against the Orthodox Union list.  Cut fish only using the knife with blue paint on the handle on one of the blue cutting boards. Cook outside on blue grill using utensils with blue paint on the handles. Serve on paper plates with compostable utensils. Meal includes challah and grilled vegetables. Note: customers may substitute any two sides from the vegan menu, but preparation is not supervised._

********************

On Friday mornings, Stiles used the ringing phone as his alarm clock.  He wanted to sleep until the last possible second to prepare for the beginning of the weekend.  Fridays were not his busiest days, but they were the most complicated.

It all started when Scott came into the restaurant upset because half the selkie population of Beacon Hills was being treated for food poisoning.  Selkies needed to eat a sizeable portion of fresh raw seafood every week to stay healthy and the local grocery store was not providing safe or sustainable options.   Stiles had opened his restaurant to solve exactly this type of problem.  He started research immediately into the optimal foods to serve the selkies and how to obtain them.  Isaac drove into San Francisco every Friday to drop his son off at his mom’s for the weekend so Stiles hired him to make an additional stop at the fish market.

The weekly seafood special was an immediate hit with the selkies and humans.  In fact it was so popular that Stiles started running out of side dishes.  Isaac offered to make an additional stop at a bakery to pick up fresh bread.  He bought challah because the braiding reminded him of his favorite knitted scarf.  This choice turned out to be unexpectedly good for business, but bad for Stiles sanity.  

The same grocer that was inexplicably unable to stock fresh fish also refused to sell kosher challah.  When the local Rabbi heard that Stiles was bringing in whole fish and challah weekly, he scheduled a meeting.  The Rabbi came prepared with many compelling arguments as to why it would be easy and profitable for Stiles to add a kosher option to the friday night menu.  He even offered supervision for the heckscher free of charge. Stiles thought the Rabbi had a unique definition of easy, but he agreed to try it for a month.  After two weeks, he started a program where families that didn’t want to eat at the restaurant could order kosher challah and fish for pick up.

All of this led to Stiles being woken up by Isaac’s phone call.  Half awake, Stiles flailed for his phone on his bedside table and managed to seize it just before the call went to voicemail.

"Mmbla," he said.

"Good morning," Isaac greeted without a hint of sympathy. Stiles supposed that was fair as it was 9:30 AM and Isaac had already been awake for hours. "Today it looks like you are getting California King salmon, soft shelled crabs, and mixed shellfish."

"Cool, do you have enough fresh corn ready for a fish boil?"  If he was going to be out in the August heat to use the kosher grill, Stiles figured he might as well fire up the turkey fryer for a fish boil. Because preparing two separate dishes outside that couldn't touch or use any shared equipment only added to the fun.

"Yep, and I have a bunch of new potatoes too if you are running low,” Isaac offered.  During high school, Isaac’s therapist had suggested that he care for a plant so that he could experience his nurturing instincts or something.  Stiles doubted she intended him to plant an entire vegetable garden. But Isaac said growing things made him feel like his mother's son instead of the spawn of his abusive asshole of a father.  When his father died, Isaac had inherited a large plot of land behind the graveyard which he used to cultivate an ever increasing variety of organic vegetables. Isaac said he would rather dig in the dirt to feed the living than bury the dead. Besides, owning his own produce business gave him the flexibility to take care of his son during the days he had custody and protected him from some of the more ridiculous supernatural employment laws.

"Perfect, see you when you get back," Stiles said and ended the call.  He made a mental list of everything he had to do before the restaurant opened for lunch while he took a shower and got dressed.  It always seemed a bit overwhelming until he started working and checking things off.  Fortunately, he didn't have far too go.  He walked the 500 feet from the front door of his trailer to the back door of his restaurant in under a minute.

All the kitchen prep for lunch service had been completed the night before, so Stiles started chopping the vegetables for the recently decided dinner specials. He was cutting up the last of the onions when the rest of his staff entered in a clump. Erica got the door while Boyd and Isaac walked in carrying a huge ice chest full of seafood.  Malia pushed in a hand truck loaded with the boxes of fresh bread.

“Hey Boss,” Erica greeted him cheerfully. She started setting up the customer area for lunch while Stiles briefed Boyd on the dinner menu and confirmed the fresh produce order with Isaac. Then Stiles started organizing the weekly challah orders.  

"I heard the werewolves were excited about something," Stiles prompted Erica.  She had become a werewolf to cure her epilepsy.  Elective bites weren't legal until sixteen.  Erica and her parents did all the paperwork early so she could receive the bite on her birthday.

"An unknown pack came into town yesterday," Erica answered.

"A fully bonded pack, like with an alpha?" questioned Stiles.

"Yep, an alpha and four betas," said Erica.That was small for a werewolf pack, but if the alpha decided to challenge Scott they would still be in trouble.

"And it gets even better," continued Erica. She always enjoyed sharing news.  "The alpha is pregnant."

"Really?" Werewolf packs were extremely protective of pregnant females.  Stiles could only imagine how they would react to a perceived threat to their pregnant alpha.

"You meet one of the betas last night."

“The grumpy man who ordered the raw heart," guessed Stiles.

"Sure thing," said Erica. "He told me that his sister has been having really intense cravings." Well that explained his disgust. Stiles was relieved to hear it was a sibling thing not a case of supernatural shame.  He had dealt with enough of that for one lifetime when Scott was involuntarily bit in high school.

"If you see him again make sure to mention we can special order anything she needs.” Stiles meat supplier was often mystified by the restaurant's orders, but he was always came through.

This conversation was interrupted by the first customers coming in to pick up their challah.  Everything ran smoothly as the day went on. Lunch was busy, but well organized and Stiles passed the Rabbi's "surprise" inspection with flying colors.  Stiles was never sure if he stopped by every week in an official capacity or if he just liked to chat. He bought three loaves of challah and promised to bring his family by for dinner so Stiles wasn't going to complain.  

Cooking dinner outside was exactly as unpleasant as Stiles had expected.  He was very grateful when he was able to turn off the kosher grill at 6:30.  The selkie and omnivore specials would be available until they switched over to the late night menu at 8 but he figured anyone who cared about kosher fish would be at services which started at 7. Stiles took over for Malia behind the bar.  

About half an hour later, an unfamiliar dark haired woman walked into the restaurant, took one sniff, and immediately walked right back out.  Stiles would have been insulted if he hadn't seen her enlarged waistline.  She wasn't the first pregnant woman to have issues with fishy Fridays. He ran after her and managed to catch up in the parking lot.

She turned with a snarl and flash of red eyes. "Why are you following me?" she demanded.

Stiles knew she could hear his heart speed up in his chest.  He held up his hands and tilted his head to the side to bare his neck. "Forgive me alpha," he said placatingly. "I know the smell in there can be a bit much even for human noses.  I was just going to offer to bring you whatever you wanted."

She looked at him in cold assessment. "I also smelled wolfsbane." This was good she was asking questions and seemed willing to listen to the answers. Stiles took a calming breath and held his submissive posture.

"I make a wolfsbane tincture to add to drinks for werewolves who want to get drunk," Stiles explained. "I also have a can of wolf mace behind the bar." Because it would be stupid to get weres drunk without one, but he figured it would be impolitic to add that part.  His father would be proud of him for thinking before he spoke.

"How often do you use the mace?" she asked sharply, but her posture was starting to relax.  It was a reasonable question.  Some humans tended to mace any werewolf that looked at them and their right to do so was actually protected by law.  

"I've only used it twice in the almost five years we've been open," Stiles replied honestly. "My waitress and chef are omegas so they can step in if someone gets rowdy." Not that it happened very often.  Anyone who caused trouble was banned from the restaurant for at least a month.

The woman listened carefully to his words and his heartbeat. When he stopped talking she smiled broadly. "Perhaps we should start over," she said.  "I'm Alpha Laura Hale. My family and I are here to reclaim our territory."

Well... fuck.


	3. Saturday: Aconite Absinthe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturdays were Stiles longest day and his favorite. The restaurant opened for brunch at nine and didn't close until eleven at night, but it didn't matter because it was werewolf day and he could count on spending most of it with friends.

_ Ingredients _

  * _1 oz Absinthe_

  * _3 oz ice cold water_

  * _1 sugar cube_

  * _Stiles wolfsbane tincture (2 drops for omega, 3 drops for a beta, 4 drops for an alpha)_




_ Instructions: _

_Pour one ounce of absinthe into special glass.  Add the appropriate number of tincture drops. Lay absinthe spoon across the glass and put sugar cube on top of spoon.  Serve with a small pitcher of  water._

_ Notes: _

  * _Aconite tincture is for weres only! Warn weres in mixed parties that wolfsbane is poisonous to humans and most supernaturals._

  * _Hard limit of 3 laced drinks per were per night_




******************

Saturdays were Stiles longest day and his favorite.  The restaurant opened for brunch at nine and didn't close until eleven at night, but it didn't matter because it was werewolf day and he could count on spending most of it with friends. Of course, on this particular Saturday the sole topic of conversation was the new pack. To say opinions were divided was an understatement.

The Hales had been controversial figures in Beacon Hills.  Talia Hale had come from a long line of strong alphas.  She had helped maintain the stability of the supernatural community while leading a growing movement to expand their rights. Unsurprisingly, her efforts were not always popular with the town's human inhabitants.

Stiles had grown up to his father's stories of his time as a young deputy trying not to betray his principles while upholding the law enough so that he didn't get fired. Talia had made him promise not to sacrifice his job unless it was really worth it.  John Stilinski told his son he suspected she knew that she was likely to become a martyr.

No one could have anticipated how it ended up happening. A group of 'human rights' activists trapped most of the Hale pack inside their house with mountain ash and set it ablaze. The arson killed sixteen people including four human children and two human mates. The horrific tragedy sparked a national debate on the treatment of supernaturals.

John worked tirelessly to ensure the fire was properly investigated and the guilty parties were arrested. Arrests in human against supernatural violence were rare and fair trials even rarer, but the young human victims helped sway previously indifferent people to the cause. The trial of Kate Argent and her five accomplices was a turning point in the fight for supernatural rights.

Stiles knew that three of Talia's elementary school aged children and her youngest brother had survived the fire. Their identities had been hidden to protect them from groups that had sworn revenge after Argent and her accomplices were sentenced to life in prison.  Apparently, this was utterly unfair when all they had done was euthanize some animals.  John had confided in his son that the surviving Hales had been taken in by a pack in upstate New York.

And now they were back.  If Laura was the same type of alpha as her mother, their return would be good for the town.  But it was going to be complicated. Beacon Hills had grown significantly since the Hales left. Most of the town humans were ashamed of the fact that three of Argent’s accomplices were local. The county council had passed some of the most liberal laws in the nation. Things were far from perfect, but Beacon Hills was an oasis of tolerance compared to the rest of the country. Many supernatural groups were interacting more with humans and each other. At the moment, everything was carefully balanced and peaceful.  If Laura planned to take up the role of Alpha Hale of Beacon Hills as it had existed twenty years ago it was going to be a disaster.

Stiles didn’t think trying to explain all this to a hungry pregnant woman in a parking lot was a good idea.  Instead, he brought her free take out and invited the entire pack to werewolf night at the restaurant. He told Erica about the confrontation and assumed that the news would spread to the entire community by Saturday evening.

Judging by the familiar faces at every table, it had.  Someone had even convinced Lydia to drive down from Stanford for the weekend. She sat with Allison sipping a fruity cocktail and discussing Scott and Allison’s wedding plans. Stiles took comfort in the fact that she was relaxed and not screaming.  Scott was wandering around the room in a seemingly random pattern stopping frequently to talk with people. He saw Stiles watching him and made his way up to the bar.

"Why does everyone expect me to be upset about the new pack," asked Scott, but Stiles figured it was a mostly rhetorical question.

"It's kind of your territory man?" answered Stiles.

"I guess, but I've never really cared about that kind of thing." Scott ran an unofficial freeform pack that more closely resembled a group of friends that liked to hang out and solve problems together than a traditional hierarchy. "Can’t I just offer them a bunch of territory that the pack doesn't use and some kind of alliance."  

Like most of Scott's plans, it was a basically good idea that needed a bit of polish. "I wouldn't suggest phrasing it that way.  Laura Hale is the hereditary alpha of most of Beacon Hills and omegas can't legally claim territory."

"And she has no need to accept your cast offs," drawled a lyconic man as he strode up to the bar. Early in the evening, Stiles had noticed the beta sitting at a table near the middle of the room pretending to read a book.  The frequency of his page turns indicated he was more interested in observing the other patrons than reading. But he was invited and kept ordering food so Stiles had seen no reason to interfere.

"Welcome to Stiles Restaurant," he said trying to turn the conversation in a positive direction. "I am Stiles Stilinski, the owner, and this is Scott McCall, the leader of the local omegas."

"Peter Hale," the man introduced himself as if sharing his name was a major favor. "I knew your father." He said to Stiles. "Both of your father's actually." He added darkly. Stiles didn't blame him for his disgust.  Scott's father had abused FBI resources to try to impede the Hale house arson investigation.  Later, he had abandoned his family when Scott got bitten.  Stiles supposed this was a better reaction than Isaac's dad who had repeatedly tried to beat the wolf out of his son.

"It’s great you're back," Scott said enthusiastically.  "It'll be nice to have an Alpha and pups around."

"Are you interested in joining the pack?" Peter asked.

"Nah, I'm happy as an omega, but anyone who wants to join Laura's pack is welcome to do so." Scott seemed completely oblivious to the serious nature of these negotiations.

"That is acceptable.  What are you thoughts on territory?" Peter prompted.

"Well we need access to the restaurant, the hospital where I work, the gym where my fiancé works,  and Isaac's farm," began Scott. "Oh and the Sheriff's department." He paused to think for a second. "The schools should be neutral because both packs will have pups."

"I'm going to need a few minor details like the locations of these places," responded Peter with the careful speech of a man who believes he is dealing with a powerful idiot.

"How about you sit down and enjoy a complimentary appetizer while I find us a map?" suggested Stiles.  He knew that the listed locations were spread across most of the town. Hopefully Scott accidentally conceding any omega who chose Laura's pack had earned them goodwill.

"Hmm, more food would be appreciated.  The cow tartar was excellent," mussed Peter.  "The rest of the pack should be arriving soon."

"Then I will bring out enough for everyone," offered Stiles.  He was grateful when Peter smiled toothily and returned to his table.

Stiles relayed the appetizer order to Boyd then ran to his trailer to print out a map.  He highlighted the locations Scott had mentioned and drew a couple of lines delineating sufficient territory for both packs and a generous neutral zone between them that included all essential services. Stiles expected some push back from Peter but it seemed a fair starting place. Stiles handed management of the restaurant over to Erica so that he could focus on helping Scott.

When he returned to the dining room, Stiles saw that the rest of the Hale pack had arrived and joined Peter at the largest table in the restaurant. Laura sat comfortably at the head with Peter at her left hand and an unfamiliar man at her right.  Several local omegas had approached to pay their respects.  Scott was introducing everyone in his usual casual manner. Laura listened politely and chatted briefly with each new acquaintance. Peter watched every exchange closely. The grumpy man and a younger woman sat on Peter's side of the table. As Stiles approached, Laura turned from her conversation and smiled.

“Hello Stiles, I would like to introduce you to the rest of my family.  This is my husband Owen, my Uncle Peter, sister Cora, and brother Derek.” she said indicating each member of the pack in turn. Owen smiled politely, Cora grinned, and Derek mostly looked uncomfortable.

“Hi,” Stiles said awkwardly. “I’m the owner of the restaurant.  Scott and Peter had a preliminary conversation earlier this evening.  Here is a map that outlines what was discussed.”

Laura accepted the map, but put it into her purse after a brief glance. “There will be plenty of time to worry about details later.  I think tonight would be better spent getting to know each other.”

“Great idea,” agreed Stiles.  At Laura’s invitation, he sat down next to Derek. The man just looked at him with a sour expression so Stiles figured it was probably his job to start a conversation.

“What are your plans in Beacon Hills?” he asked.  

“I ghostwrite middle school science and math textbooks,” answered Derek shortly.

“That sounds fun.  I loved math and science in school,” babbled Stiles.  “I didn’t always love the teachers, but I used to enjoy reading the textbooks.” Cora gave him a disbelieving look, but Derek seemed to relax slightly.

“My current project is updating an Environmental Science textbook to include the more accurate information of global warming,” said Derek.  This was a topic Stiles could embrace with enthusiasm.  Stiles thoroughly enjoyed discussing the latest data and politics surrounding climate change. Over the course of the conversation, Derek slowly warmed up until he was debating ways to combat anti-science attitudes with quiet, but obvious passion.  However, he never reached the charming ease with which he had conversed with Erica the first night.

Stiles hoped that he was reversing Derek’s initial unfavorable impression until he saw Derek grin at Erica as she approached to take their order. Stiles knew he should be glad that everyone seemed to be getting along, but attractive people inspired him to occasional moments of selfishness.

Cora ordering a salmon burger with curly fries gave his ego a needed boost.  "The fries were even awesome cold, but I didn't manage to get very many," Cora enthused.

"You stole curly fries from a pregnant alpha," said Stiles with a grin. "I can tell we are going to be friends." When Stiles first opened the restaurant he had spent months tweaking the recipe to get the fries absolutely perfect.

"I will have the squash, mushroom risotto and a side of lentil salad," ordered Derek.  Stiles noticed he hadn’t eaten any of the cow tartar.

“Are you vegan?” Stiles asked. He carefully memorized the dietary preferences of all his regular customers to ensure they always got the correct food and menus.

"I am trying it out," Derek answered. "I would like to be vegan for environmental reasons but I'm not sure how well it will work for me long term."

"I need to introduce you to Isaac," exclaimed Stiles and quickly crossed the room to pull Isaac away from a discussion with Danny. "Isaac is vegan on the days when he has custody of his son."

Isaac and his ex had only been together for a couple months when Jen found out she had experienced a birth control failure.  She decided she wanted a baby but not a boyfriend.  Everyone had worried that Isaac would have a limited relationship with his son.  It would have been trivially easy for Jen to get full custody. But Jen and Isaac had worked out a fair and flexible co-parenting arrangement that appeared effortless from the outside.  Stiles had no idea how they managed to make raising a kid with two working parents in two different cities look easy. Jen's one demand was that she wanted Cam to be raised vegan.  Isaac loved his son far more than he loved eating meat on weekdays.

"So you are raising a vegan pup?" asked Cora with interest.

"No Cam is human, but I think it would be possible to raise a healthy vegan pup," answered Isaac. This comment launched a discussion on how to meet the needs of species with high protein requirements on a plant based diet.

Cora took the position that you could satisfy most environmental and cruelty concerns by restricting yourself to sustainable wild fish and game.  

Peter thought the whole thing was pointless. "Yes meat is murder," he drawled. "But I have no problem with that." Laura made a scolding noise and Stiles decided to order off the vegan menu in solidarity.

Overall the evening was a great success.  Nothing was resolved, but Stiles was optimistic that future meetings would go well.  Laura seemed willing to acknowledge the McCall pack and was charmed by Scott's unorthodox method of politics.  Cora was awesome, Peter was creepy, and Derek was perfect.

At closing time, Derek volunteered to help Stiles stack chairs so they could finish their discussion of the ethics of wild game hunting.

“I think the important thing is to respect the hunting season and use every part of the animal you kill,” Stiles argued.  “We have a hunter who goes shooting especially for the restaurant. Although I will admit we have a bit of an advantage because many supernaturals prefer parts of the animal that are not as popular with humans.”

“Do you serve a lot of kinds of supernaturals at the restaurant?” asked Derek.

"Initially, most of our customers were supernatural, but as we expanded the menu we have been getting more humans," answered Stiles.  “I try to have menu items available for everyone, but some of the more obscure menus are not available every day."

"What is the most challenging?" asked Derek.

"Well, we do a raw vegan menu once a month for the fey," Stiles said. "That one is really complicated to plan because it has to be prepared without any metal utensils. But the biggest challenge is to plan meals so that they allow the greatest amount of crossover.  For example, people with severe nut allergies can eat all the kosher food.”

Derek looked confused. “I thought nuts could be kosher.”

“Oh they are,”  answered Stiles.  “But by keeping them out of the kosher food it allows me to accommodate another complicated diet. The kosher equipment never touches nuts. I have charts.”  Actually, when he was first planning out the restaurant he had covered the entire wall of his bedroom at his father’s house with charts of every food restriction he could think of with colored string connecting the ones that matched up well together.  Opening the restaurant and learning to accommodate customer requests had only made menu planning even more complicated.

“They put a lot of trust in you,” said Derek, but something in his tone seemed a little off.  

Stiles bristled. “I have earned that trust. “

“Sorry,” Derek backpedaled. “I mean the community feels safe at your restaurant.”

“I hope so,” answered Stiles.  “We have so few places that are really ours.  I mean most people in Beacon Hills are great.  We are increasingly tolerated in the human world, but we aren’t really part of it yet.”

“Do you worry there will be backlash?” Stiles knew that growing rights for marginalized populations tending to make radicals dig in their heels. It was something Stiles tried not to think about.

“Not here,” he replied with confidence. “I worry that there will be ugly incidents in the south and midwest, but not here.”

“I hope you're right.”  Derek’s voice held a wistful sincerity.  Stiles though it must be hard for him to be back in the town where so much of his family died.  He promised himself he would do everything possible to make sure the treaty negotiations went smoothly and the Hales were welcomed back home.


	4. Sunday: Oatmeal Pancakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As a child, Stiles had a profoundly religious experience every Sunday morning. It was his mother's homemade brunch. Now he shares it with his father and everyone who comes to the restaurant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This the actual pancake recipe that I make for my family at least monthly. These pancakes are amazing! You would never know they are whole wheat. If you don’t have a kitchen scale and flour mill, you can substitute 1 ¼ C whole wheat pastry flour for the wheat berries and ¾ C rolled oats or oat flour for the steel cut oats. 120 grams = 1 cup for most whole grain flours.

_ Ingredients: _

  * _150 grams soft white wheat berries_

  * _90 grams steel cut oats_

  * _2 tbsp sugar_

  * _2 tsp baking powder_

  * _1/2 tsp baking soda_

  * _1 tsp salt_

  * _1 3/4 cups buttermilk_

  * _1 egg beaten_

  * _1/4 cups vegetable oil_

  * _pinch of cinnamon_




_ Instructions _

_Weigh out whole grains on the kitchen scale and put them through the flour mill.  Pour the resulting flour into a large bowl and combine with the rest of the dry ingredients. In a small bowl, combine wet ingredients, then pour into dry ingredients.  Mix until just smooth. Cook on greased griddle. (Modified from Bob's Red Mill Baking Book p. 190)_

_ Notes on serving Sheriff Stilinski: _

The Sheriff is welcome to order anything off the vegan or health conscious omnivore menus.  Under no circumstances can bacon be added to any entrée. Ignore any threats of arrest due to this restriction. All Beacon Hills deputies receive a 25% discount at the restaurant for helping Stiles monitor his father's diet.

***********

As a child, Stiles had a profoundly religious experience every Sunday morning.  It was his mother's homemade brunch.  They would wake up early and spend the morning making decadent muffins, savory fritatas, and crispy bacon.  Claudia loved experimenting so they rarely made the same recipe twice. On days when Stiles father was home, they would wake him by waving a plate of food under his nose. Or more accurately, Claudia would wave a plate of food under his nose while Stiles bounced onto the bed and giggled. Then they would all sit around the kitchen table and eat themselves silly.  On Sundays when John had to work, they would carefully pack up the leftovers to deliver to the station.

About a month after his mother died, Stiles almost burned down the house trying to keep the tradition.  John had come down the stairs to the blaring fire alarm and helped his son clean up.  Then he had sat at the kitchen table and patiently read aloud instructions from the last cookbook Claudia had purchased.  As the two remaining members of the Stilinski family ate the almost inedible result, Stiles realized for the first time that there would be moments of happiness in a world without his mother.  Stiles had made his father brunch every Sunday morning since.  

When Stiles had announced he wanted to go to culinary school instead of college, his father was his strongest supporter and two years later the first investor in Stiles restaurant. He came in every Sunday for the all day brunch menu.  The day after Stiles met the entire Hale pack he was there for both business and pleasure.  

"I see you got vandalized again last night," John began as his son set a large plate containing whole grain pancakes and a mixed berry parfait in front of him.

"Yep." The restaurant got hate speech spray painted on walls every couple months. About once a year someone threw rocks through the windows.  Danny had helped Stiles install a top of the line surveillance system for the outside of the restaurant, but it didn't really help.  The perpetrators already wore generic clothing and full black ski masks.  The footage had allowed the sheriff's department to determine that they were looking for men of average height and build with light skin. This wasn't likely to generate arrests anytime soon.

"Boyd and I came in through the back so we didn’t even know about it until the first customers clued us in,” added Stiles.  The spray paint featured a crudely drawn wolf and the words ‘whorewolf bitch die and burn’. Stiles knew that most of Beacon Hills was very supportive of the restaurant and increasing diversity of the population. Often he forgot about the attitudes prevalent outside his little bubble for days at a time. Then something would remind him of how lucky he was. It only took one or two bad apples to make everyone feel unsafe.

Of course, another thing that could make him feel unsafe was an enraged werewolf.  Derek violently flung open the door to the restaurant and strode right up to Stiles. "There is paint on the front of your building."

Stiles had a hysterical moment where he was tempted to point out that the front of the restaurant was always painted the same color blue as his beloved jeep, but then reason reasserted itself. "We had some unauthorized artists last night. But don't worry I still have some exterior paint. I can cover it up as soon as the sheriff has all the pictures he needs," he said placatingly.  Stiles was unsurprised that the graffiti angered Derek.  He could only hope that it didn’t derail the territory negotiations.

Derek gave Sheriff Stilinski a brief glance and took a small step back from his son."Give me the paint," he demanded.

"Uhm," Stiles began.

"You'd better give him the paint, son," his father interrupted.

Arguing seemed unwise so Stiles went to retrieve the paint and painting supplies from the storage shed next to his trailer. When he turned back towards the restaurant, he found Derek less than a foot behind him.

"Jeez, you really don't believe in personal space do you,' he exclaimed. Derek took the supplies without a word and stalked off to the scene of the crime.

Stiles returned to his job.  An hour later, his heart was again beating at a normal rate and he realized he should probably go check on Derek. He made a fresh juice vegan protein smoothie as a peace offering and reluctantly went out the front door.  He found a shirtless Derek carefully washing the front of his restaurant with a scrub brush. Nearby, Cora lounged on a lawn chair playing with her phone.  The graffiti had been disguised with a spray painted unicorn flying over a rainbow.  

"Good morning, Stiles."  Cora greeted him cheerfully as she relieved him of the smoothie. She took a big sip. "This is great. Derek would probably like one too."

"Hi Cora," answered Stiles. He wasn't sure what to make of the situation, but he wasn't about to complain.  Half naked Derek looked even better than he had furtively imagined the previous night.

"Derek called me to say he didn't have everything he needed to repaint your restaurant," continued Cora matter-of-factly.

"I need to wash the exterior or the paint won't stick properly," explained Derek.

"Good to know," answered Stiles. At a loss of what to say next he went with his default of offering more food.  "Well, there will be a free brunch waiting for you when you decide you want a break."

Derek smiled gratefully as if Stiles was the one doing him a major favor. "I should be done for today in about an hour, but I will need to come back tomorrow to paint."

"The restaurant is closed on Mondays," said Stiles.

"Perfect, then I wont be in anyone's way." Derek returned to work, but Cora abandoned her chair and started walking towards the entrance of the restaurant.

"It's getting too hot out here.  I'm going inside to circle all Derek's favorite items on the menu."

"That will be convenient," said Stiles for lack of anything better to say.

Cora grinned, "I'm glad you think so." She pulled a slightly crumpled envelope out of her back pocket. "Before I forget, Laura wanted me to give you her notes on the map." Cora held open the door for Stiles to precede her inside.  Then she invited herself to join the Sheriff at the table where he was reading the news while nursing a cup of coffee.

Stiles considered trying to rescue his father, but then decided the seasoned law professional could handle one young adult werewolf. He assigned Erica to wait on their table.

Stiles sought the relative privacy of the kitchen before opening the envelope.  Someone had redrawn the boundary lines and included arrows to indicate the shifts.  The changes were puzzling.  The new proposed McCall territory was larger than before.  It included the gym where Allison worked, Isaac’s farm, and a large portion of the north end of the Preserve.  The neutral zone encompassed the hospital, schools, and most of the downtown shopping area.  The previous site of the Hale house and the east side of the Preserve made up the bulk of the new Hale territory.  Stiles would suspect that Peter had moved the lines in neutral ways just to be contrary except for one change.  The new lines removed his restaurant from McCall territory and assigned it to a portion of the neutral zone which was actually closer to Hale territory.  This wasn’t necessarily a problem as the alliance would give both packs access in either case, but it was a bit odd. He wanted to be in McCall territory for sentimental reasons.

An attached paper outlined a fairly standard pack alliance with free movement through each others territories and mutual protection against opposing forces.  At the end of the document were two notable additions.  The first was a section giving explicit rights and protections to the human members of both packs.  Stiles considered this to be a good idea and logical given the Hales history. The second addition was a couple of paragraphs that provided a framework for changing territory and pack membership in the case of marriages between packs.

When he finished reading, Stiles scanned the documents and emailed copies to both Scott and Jackson.  Jackson may be an ass, but he was excellent lawyer and advocate for the pack.  Stiles expected that he would advise them to take the deal. The proposal was more than fair especially considering that Alpha Hale was not required acknowledge Scott's pack or negotiate with them at all.

Pack business finished, the familiar routine of running his restaurant distracted Stiles until a slightly disheveled Derek intercepted him on his way to grab plates of food from the kitchen. He was streaked with dirt and had a gym bag slung over one arm.

"Hey, I put everything back in the shed," Derek began. "Is there somewhere I could wash up before brunch?"

"The only shower is in my trailer," said Stiles apologetically. Derek grunted and walked toward the back of the restaurant.  Stiles had an uneasy feeling that he knew where this was going.  He hurried after Derek only to stop awkwardly at the door of his own home.

"Do you have everything you need?" he called in to the trailer.

"Yes," Derek shouted back. "Could you order brunch for me? I should be ready in about twenty minutes?" It was official. The Hale pack had moved to Beacon Hills for the sole purpose driving Stiles crazy, but he was kind of enjoying the process.  Stiles promised himself that he would further explore his mental images of Derek in his shower after the restaurant closed.  For now, he ordered Derek a generous vegan brunch featuring items circled by Cora and returned to work.

Erica stopped him on his way into the dining room.  “You might want to intervene between your father and Cora.”

“They aren’t getting along?” Stiles asked with concern.  His father could generally be trusted to be politely social with anyone who wasn’t a criminal.  The position of Sheriff was by no means a popularity contest, but John Stilinski wouldn’t keep getting re-elected every four years if he wasn't well liked.

Erica smirked. “Thats not the problem.  The last time I refilled their water glasses, Cora was in the middle of asking your father for more details about your final project for 8th grade Home Ec.”

“The one about designing a diet to support milk production in post-partum werewolves,” asked Stiles with dread.

“Exactly,” answered Erica.  “Cora looked fascinated.”

“I’m sure she was asking for her sister,” said Stiles.

“Possibly,” said Erica gleefully. “But Derek was pumping me for information about you the first evening he came in for take out.  It is almost as if the Hales have taken an interest in you” Stiles decided that he was done with this conversation.  Erica was just trying to work him up. He refused to hope there could be any other explanation.

Stiles went to check on his father and Cora as a precaution. They fell silent as he approached. “What’s up guys?” he asked awkwardly.

“Cora was just leaving,” drawled a voice over his shoulder. Stiles spun and found himself looking into the smirking face of Peter Hale.  He sat casually on the table behind Stiles and regarded him with steady cold eyes. “I think she has taken up more than enough of the Sheriff's time for today,” he said precisely.

Cora rolled her eyes and stood up.  “Thanks for having brunch with me,” she said. “Please think about our chat.” She turned to her uncle.

“We have to wait for Derek to finish using Stiles shower,” Cora announced. The Sheriff raised his eyebrows at his son and Peter narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Very well, but we will wait outside.” Peter hopped off the table and began walking towards the door. “Do bring Derek’s food out to us,” he added over his shoulder.

“Bye, Stiles, see you tomorrow,” called Cora as she followed her uncle out.

“What did you and Cora chat about?” asked Stiles as soon as the Hales were out of earshot.

“She was concerned about violence towards supernaturals in Beacon Hills,” answered the Sheriff. “I tried to tell her about how much things have changed since the fire, but she was concerned the graffiti signaled a threat to the restaurant.”

“How did that conversation turn into telling embarrassing stories about me?” asked Stiles sternly.

His father looked completely unrepentant.  “Cora wondered about your first forays into feeding werewolves.”

“So you told her about a theoretical middle school project? Why couldn’t you have told her about me helping Isaac find his anchor by perfectly replicating his mother’s brisket.” Stiles flailed his arms for emphasis. “That story makes me sound good.”

“Its hard to remember those types of stories without bacon.”

“One order of turkey bacon to never mention that thing I did in 11th grade,” Stiles offered.

“Done.”


	5. Monday: Menu planning notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The restaurant is closed on Mondays, but that doesn't stop the Hales from showing up.

_Notes on gluten free options:_

_The staff gets a lot of questions about this.  Stiles did a bunch of research and determined it wasn't possible to meet the federal standard for gluten free in the current kitchen.  However, all menus have options that are prepared without gluten ingredients on shared equipment.  This is likely sufficient for most non-celiac customers. Stiles is open to discussing expanding options if there is sufficient interest._

_Note to Stiles from Allison:_

_Several women wanted to know if you would consider not switching to the late night menu during Ramadan._

_Note to Allison  from Stiles:_

_Please inform your classes that the full menu will be available until closing during Ramadan. I received a call from a local farmer raising free range, vegetarian fed chickens that are certified organic, kosher, and halal. Could you take an informal poll to see if there is interest for a Thursday night special?_

_Note to Allison from Stiles:_

_Please inform your classes that the second Thursday of every month is now happy, local, organic, kosher, halal chicken night._

****************

Allison started teaching yoga in college to earn money for a new crossbow.  She found that she loved helping people find inner peace through stretching and movement.  She changed her degree to sports psychology, but took all the pre-med sciences courses with Scott because they were just that codependent.  When they moved back to Beacon Hills, Allison got a job at the local gym doing personal training as well as teaching group fitness classes and archery.  She supplemented her income by hunting fresh game for the restaurant.  It was a strange combination that got even stranger when she started teaching womens only yoga out of the restaurant.

The gym where Allison worked had a group fitness room at the back with large windows so people using the weight machines had a perfect view of everyone taking a class. When several of the women complained that being watched made them uncomfortable, Allison asked for permission to put up curtains.  The gym owner not only refused permission to shield the women from unwanted stares, but he seemed to be of the opinion that the mostly male observers should be seen as a motivational tool.

The next Monday,  Stiles helped Allison install blackout curtains for her first women's only yoga class.  He figured that since the restaurant was closed that day anyway someone might as well use the building. The class proved to be very popular.  Currently, Allison taught three classes on Monday and an additional class early Wednesday morning before the restaurant opened. The arrangement turned out beneficial for both of them as it supplemented Allisons income and turned Allison’s students into loyal, but opinionated customers of the resturant.

Stiles liked the fact that he was unwelcome in his own business on Mondays because it gave him an excuse to sleep in and relax. Which made the pounding on his door an unpleasant surprise. He hollered for the disturbance to go away so he could sleep.

"Get your ass out of bed Stilinski," Cora Hale yelled back. He stumbled out of bed and found the three Hale siblings waiting just outside his trailer.  Laura and Cora were dressed for yoga and Derek was wearing threadbare old workout clothes that were splattered with paint. Stiles started as he tried to wake up his brain.

"Derek only finished painting half your wall," announced Cora.  "So we're dropping him off here while we do class."

Derek looked irritated. "I would have had time to do the whole thing before class started if you hadn't insisted on carpooling," he muttered.

"It’s a waste to drive two cars to the same place," said Cora, obviously repeating an old argument. "You were telling me just yesterday about all ways ways the pack can help to save our planet." Derek gave her a nasty look which she completely ignored. Cora waved cheerfully and started walking back towards the restaurant.  

Laura paused before following. "Has Scott had a chance to look over the treaty proposal?"

Jackson had given the documents preliminary approval within an hour of it being sent out, but Scott had forwarded Stiles email to the entire pack and told people to email Stiles within 24 hours if they had issues.  "The pack is still looking things over, but so far there are no objections."  The only people who seemed to take the request for comments seriously were Lydia and Isaac.  Erica had sent him a note about all the reasons he should volunteer to be a treaty bride.  Allison and Boyd hadn't responded at all.  “Isaac wanted to verify that his son, Cam,  was included in the pack human protections.”

"Of course, we will add him by name." Laura offered. "Someone will check in this evening about any additional changes." Laura abandoned him with Derek.

Stiles and Derek stared at each other for a couple seconds.  Stiles was starting to feel more awake but it was unclear why the Hales had woken him up.

"I heard you knew the trails in the Preserve really well because you enjoy running cross country," Derek began.  "I'm going to take a run to make sure we understand the division of territory."

"Sounds fun," said Stiles vaguely. He hadn't done much running since high school.

"You can come with me," said Derek. It was probably intended to be an invitation, but it came out more like a demand. Stiles gave an entirely internal sigh.  He was probably too awake to get back to sleep anyway. His duty to his pack was clear. That was definitely the only reason he was agreeing.

"Just let me change."  Rummaging through his closet, Stiles managed to locate a set of old Beacon Hills High Lacrosse gym clothes.  He was proud of the fact they still fit.  His running shoes were a bit worse for wear, but Derek was covered in paint so it hardly mattered.  

Stiles led them straight back from the restaurant into the Preserve.  They ran vaguely east until they intercepted a path worn into the dirt by decades of student athletes.  Stiles was surprised to find that running with Derek was kind of fun.  The werewolf stuck by Stiles side and slowed down whenever Stiles breathing got too heavy.  They ran mostly in silence except when Stiles pointed out a landmark or the proposed boundary.  Occasionally Stiles caught Derek looking over at him.

By the time the trail let out behind a shopping center, Stiles was tired and very hungry. “Lets take a break,” he suggested.  “I’ll buy you substandard coffee from the cart in the grocery store.”

“No,” Derek said brusquely and walked over to the cart.  Stiles was about to take offense at the rudeness when he realized that Derek was ordering food and drinks for two. There were no vegan pastry options so he bought a roll and sad looking banana.

“You have given me too much food,” announced Derek as he deposited the meager offerings on the one rickety table stood next to the cart. “Its my turn to feed you.”

“Thanks,” Stiles said. The roll was dry and the banana was badly bruised, but it didn’t matter. The old adage about hearts and stomachs was painfully true for him. “What made you guys decide to leave New York?”

"We were living with Deucalion's pack, but some of his opinions were making Laura uncomfortable.” Stiles made a mental note to research Deucalion as Derek continued. “Then Laura found out she was pregnant and the nesting instinct hit her hard.  She wanted to bear her pups in her own territory, not a place borrowed from another pack.”  

“There were rumors that Beacon Hills was turning into a safe place and Laura wanted to support the effort.” Derek looked uncomfortable, but Stiles didn’t understand why.  Laura’s decisions seemed reasonable. Stiles looked back towards the coffee cart to check if their order was ready. Perhaps refreshment would help ease conversation.  He saw the barista receiving a stern lecture from the owner of the grocery store.  They were too far away for Stiles to hear their words, but the barista looked upset.  When the grocer saw Stiles watching, he said a few final words then walked away towards the back of the store.  The woman quickly attempted to make their drinks, but the beverages she delivered were lukewarm and disgustingly sweet.  The coffee cart had never been stellar but this was a new low.

“Are you guys liking it so far?” asked Stiles.

“Yes.” Derek punctuated his one word answer by making a perfect basket with his empty coffee cup into the trash can ten feet away. Stiles was tempted to try to copy him, but decided that walking the short distance was better than embarrassment.

They agreed to jog through the town on the way back to the restaurant and Stiles played tour guide pointing out all the supernatural friendly businesses. The pace back was slower than the run out so Stiles was able to keep up his monologue without stopping to pant.  Derek asked few questions, but seemed to be listening. They ran the last block past a couple of deserted properties and arrived in Stiles parking lot just as the yoga class was getting out. Derek thanked him for the run and said he was ready to finish painting.

Stiles fixed himself a slightly more satisfying breakfast in his trailer and was messing around on the internet when Derek interrupted him to use his shower.  Stiles was willing to excuse a lot of odd behavior in his friend and allies, but Derek walking out in just a towel asking to borrow clothes was taking things too far to be plausible without an ulterior motive.

"Why?" Stiles asked simply.

"My clothes are sweaty and covered in paint," answered Derek.  It seemed reasonable except that he had brought a bag of painting supplies and could have easily included a change of clothes.  Or he could have just gone home to shower.

"No, why are you trying to seduce me?" he wished he could believe it was because Derek found him unbearably hot, but that seemed unlikely.

“Because I like you.” Derek was trying to look earnest but mostly just looked miserable.

Stiles snorted.  Erica's jokes about becoming a treaty bride echoed unpleasantly in his head. "Were you ordered to seduce me?"

"No," Derek denied the accusation, but Stiles thought that if he was entirely off base Derek would probably be angry. When Stiles didn't respond Derek continued. "Laura wanted the treaty in place as soon as possible. Peter told Cora and I to make friends with you to ease negotiations, but we realized almost immediately that McCall would to agree any reasonable offer. I continued because I honestly like you."

"Why?" Stiles knew he was starting to sound like a broken record or a three year old, but it just wasn't computing.  Stiles was well aware of the fact that the beautiful people tolerated him because he was useful and loyal. The only people that just enjoyed his company were his father, Erica, and Scott.

"You are kind and thoughtful and care so much about everything." Derek was starting to look annoyed. "Also you have a mouth that looks made to suck cock."

Weirdly, the crude statement was the first thing Stiles really believed.  "You really want me to suck your cock?"

"Yes," Derek confirmed.

"Okay." Physical intimacy was easier to agree to than emotional things.  "After the treaty is signed, if you are still interested, we will have some dinner then I will suck your cock."

Derek gave Stiles a toothy grin.  "Sounds great." He ducked back into the bathroom and emerged a minute later in clean clothes.

"You lied to me," Stiles accused with obviously false indignation.

"Yep," said Derek with a unrepentant smirk.  He kissed Stiles on the cheek and walked out the door.

Stiles stood in his trailer with red cheeks reminding himself he was a grown man.  Then he packed up his laundry as an excuse to visit his dad and crow about finally getting the boy.


	6. Tuesday: Placental Smoothies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some things Stiles will never understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: If you are easily grossed out or offended by some birthing customs, you may want to skip the recipe and first paragraph. The second half of the chapter contains cannon typical violence. Spoilers in the end notes for those who would prefer a more detailed warning.

_Ingredients:_

  * _1 12 oz bag of mixed frozen berries_

  * _1 large ripe banana_

  * _1 cup cranberry juice_

  * _placenta_




_Instruction:_

_Cut membranes and cord from the placenta.  Cut raw meat into small cubes. Blend all ingredients in blender.  Drink in 8oz servings.  Remainder can be frozen in popsicle molds for later consumption._

*******************

There were many things in life Stiles didn't understand like prejudice, multivariable calculus, and why a woman would want to eat her own placenta. But just because Stiles couldn’t wrap his head around something didn’t make it stop existing.  When the first pregnant woman asked for his options and fees for preparing her placenta, he thought it was a joke. A couple of hours on the internet persuaded Stiles that this was a thing people actually did.  And it kind of freaked him out.  It was the first time he seriously considered refusing a special request, but that would make him a hypocrite. So he bought a single purpose blender and got over it.  It actually would seem less odd to him if he was preparing placental smoothies for supernaturals, but he acknowledged this as his own prejudice and worked to get over it.  Because people can change with time and education.

Stiles was feeling optimistic about life when Ted Knowley, the owner of the grocery store, came into his restaurant on the morning of the treaty signing. It was the first time Ted had ever set foot in the building. Ted’s brother was in jail for being one of Kate Argents accomplices.  While he had publicly denounced the violence, it was well known that Ted was displeased with the changes to the town. But today was a day for new beginnings and alliances.

“Welcome to Stiles Restaurant.  Can I show you to a table?”

“I saw you had a unpleasant experience yesterday and I was wondering if I could buy you a better cup of coffee,” offered Ted.

“At my own restaurant?” asked Stiles bemused. It said something about his week that this seem like a perfectly reasonable offer.

“I figured you like it here,” answered Ted. The lunch rush wouldn’t hit for another thirty minutes so Stiles grabbed two cups of coffee and followed Ted to a table. They chatted idly about increasing food prices for a couple of minutes before Ted introduced the real topic of conversation.

“My daughter is engaged to a witch and I came to talk to you about catering the wedding.”  Stiles had enjoyed a bit of schadenfreude when he heard the rumor of the upcoming nuptials, but it was nothing compared to his genuine happiness at this evidence of his neighbor’s growing acceptance.

“Absolutely, I don’t do a ton of catering, but let me grab some menus.  I’m sure we can work something out.” He returned with the human omnivore and vegan menus.   The couple was planning to be married on the second Saturday in December and wanted a turkey dinner with holiday themed vegetarian sides. Stiles was confident he could prepare appropriately festive offerings well within Ted’s budget.  

“Let me take a day to price out some options and I will email you a couple of sample menus for the brides look over.”

“That sounds great,” Ted agreed and pulled out his wallet to pay for the coffee.

“Nonsense.” Stiles refused the money with a smile. “This was a business meeting.” He stood up to shake Ted’s hand and escort him to the door.

Lunch went smoothly which was fortunate because as the day progressed Stiles started to feel tired.  Initially, he thought he was just recovering for the unaccustomed exercise the day before.  Then his nose started to clog and he developed a headache.  Summer colds were the worst, but all Stiles could really do was wash his hands and limit himself to taking orders.  As Scott's unofficial emissary, he had to be there for the treaty signing.

As the lunch rush began to wane, the Hales and most of the McCall pack gathered at the back of the restaurant.  Derek arrived first and spent the last hour of lunch smiling at Stiles and nursing a vegan smoothie. Jackson and Peter took turns rereading the final document while Erica finished helping the last customers settle their checks.  Stiles switched the sign in the front window to closed with a sigh of relief.  The signing should go quickly and then he could turn the restaurant over to Erica and take a nap before dinner. When both Peter and Jackson were finished Laura stood.

“I, Laura Hale of the Hale pack, thank the McCall pack for welcoming us to Beacon Hills.  Today we... "

Laura’s speech cut off abruptly and all the werewolves in the room tensed. Stiles looked around but didn’t see anything amiss. Boyd ran back toward the kitchen with Erica and Isaac at his heels.

“Something is on fire,” Isaac yelled back towards the group.  Stiles grabbed the fire extinguisher from behind the bar and hurried after them.  If he couldn't smell the smoke, he must be more congested than he realized. He hoped it wasn't too bad.  Even minor kitchen fires could cause costly damages.  

When he entered the kitchen, the entire back wall was ablaze and the flames were starting to creep across the ceiling. "Too late, everybody out," he cried and waited for his employees to precede him back to the dining room.

Cora opened the front door and tried to exit, but she couldn’t pass the threshold.  Symbols glowed to life at regular intervals through the walls.  The logical section of his brain informed him that the spells were at all the locations where the walls had been sprayed with graffiti.  He stared at them for several seconds in denial and shock. Because the graffiti had been happening for years and he had honestly believed things were getting better.  This couldn’t be happening again in his hometown where he knew almost everyone.  There could not possibly be a long term plan to kill his pack.

To stave off panic, Stiles tried to remember every spell he had ever read to break wards. He reached for his spark and failed.  It felt like a slimy mucus separated him from his power.  He summoned all his will and denial to clear the blockage, but it stubbornly remained.  

“I can’t break the barrier from the inside,” he told Scott apologetically.  “I’m going to try from outside.” Stiles attempted to step confidently through the door and was repelled by the same force that trapped Cora.

“My phone isn’t working,” said Isaac at the same time as Scott and Erica started coughing.

"Mine isn't either," confirmed Laura's husband.

“There is something in the smoke,” said Scott between gasps.

“I’ll try the landline,” offered Boyd. But a second later, he shook his head. Stiles wondered if his spark was keeping him from passing the barrier.  Perhaps one of the normal humans would have more luck.  Then he realized he was the closest thing to human in the restaurant.  Lydia was still at Stanford, Cam had been invited on a playdate, and Allison had been unable to reschedule one of her personal training sessions.  Which could be coincidence, but Stiles wasn’t willing to bet on it. He was starting to suspect the arson had been very carefully planned.  God, how many of the people he passed every day on the street had been plotting to kill him? Half of the outrage for the Hale house fire had been over the human victims. This fire would kill only werewolves and one spark.

With renewed determination, he threw himself at the barrier believing with all his heart that this was not supposed to happen.  His pack and business were his life and he absolutely refused to see them burn. The headache he had managed to ignore for the last several minutes flared and he found himself on the floor screaming.  This horrible feeling must be what the Hales felt as their beloved home turned into a trap.

Isaac threw a chair through the front window.  The opening brought in a breath of fresh air and a moment of optimism until Isaac realized he couldn't move his head through the opening.  Still the influx of untainted air should buy the werewolves more time.  The restaurant was isolated at the end of a dead end road but someone might smell the smoke or see the fire as it burned higher.  

The Hales were less affected by the smoke than the McCall pack, but no more able to escape. Peter prowled the perimeter of the room systematically checking the wards for any weakness. Laura was trying to comfort Cora while Derek stood frozen in the center of the room.  

Stiles looked up at the man who might have become his lover and wished he had not come to Beacon Hills. Derek could have lived out his life peacefully with his pack.  Perhaps he could have found a fun, socially conscious woman to be his wife and give him a litter of pups.  Derek would have been happy.  Instead, he had come to what should have been a safe place and got trapped in a fire.

Scott was starting to lose control of his shift.  His side burns were lengthening and his fingernails were turning into claws as he threw himself against the barrier on the front door.

"We will not burn," Scott cried as he pushed with all his strength and will.  At first, his efforts seemed as ineffective as Stiles. Then his eyes started to flash red.  

"Keep going McCall," Jackson yelled in encouragement. Stiles was momentarily reminded of similar cheers during high school Lacrosse games. Scott took a few seconds to breath then pushed again with renewed determination. His eyes flickered then glowed a steady scarlet as he broke the spell.  Scott stumbled forward with the force of his momentum and took big gulps of fresh air. Isaac and Jackson helped Erica stumble to the door.  Derek bent down to lift Stiles and quickly carried him outside.  Stiles would have protested that he could walk, but his headache and relief were making him dizzy.

As soon as everyone was outside, Scott called 911. Stiles shivered with shock in Derek's arms and watched his dream burn. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished writing this chapter before I started posting. I have been nervously waiting for posting to catch up to it. I promise happy endings, but first some conflict. Writing this story has been an exercise in foreshadowing as much as possible without giving and at the fire. 
> 
> The beginning of the chapter discusses women eating their own placentas. I did not choose to do this after either of my births, but a friend who did swears by this recipe.
> 
> The owner of the grocery store poisons Stiles and then sets fire to the restaurant. Everyone escapes and there are no lasting injuries. The restaurant is totally destroyed.


	7. Wednesday: Fresh Game Potluck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some explanations and a new beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bad news: the chapter count for this story has decreased by one. Good news: I decided to write a multi-chapter sequel instead of a single chapter epilogue. Bad news: there will be a month or so wait until I start posting the sequel. Good news: this chapter is super long to tide you over.

_Email to customer mailing list_

_Dear friends,_

_It is a very special fresh game Wednesday.  We have fresh deer and pheasants.  Unfortunately we do not have a kitchen.  As many of you have probably heard, the restaurant was lit on fire by an arsonist yesterday afternoon. The investigation has barely begun, but we believe it to be an act of terrorism against the supernatural community.  Luckily, there were no serious injuries but the restaurant will need to be rebuilt.  And make no mistake we are rebuilding. With Scott McCall’s ascension to True Alpha and the addition of the Hale Pack, the Beacon Hills supernatural community is stronger than ever._

_We refuse to be driven apart by fear.  Our restaurant will be open today from 5-8pm for a new al fresco dining experience.  Let us come together to honor our community._

_Menu:_

  * _Fresh deer and organic vegetable stew_

  * _Assorted grilled organic vegetables (vegan on shared equipment)_

  * _Grilled pheasant wrapped in bacon_

  * _Fresh deer meat cut and grilled to order_




_Price: Free, but we will be accepting donations for our rebuilding fund._

_Sincerely,_

_Stiles Stilinski_

_PS: Does anyone have any outdoor furniture or picnic blankets they would like to donate to the restaurant?  We would also be interested in borrowing several large outdoor grills._

*********************

Stiles remembered the rest of the day of the fire in bits and patches. He remembered Scott taking him from Derek to frantically check his vitals and the Hale family huddling together as the sound of sirens grew closer.

The Sheriff arrived seconds before the fire department.  He reassured himself that his son was conscious and breathing before surrendering him to the paramedics.  The paramedics wrapped Stiles in warm blankets and shoved an oxygen mask over his face while Scott filled them in on his collapse.  Stiles tried to explain that he was fine and wanted to stay at the restaurant, but Scott and his father pretended they couldn’t understand him.  The paramedics seemed inclined to believe Scott’s medical opinion over Stiles.  Scott insisted on riding in the ambulance with him to supervise his care and held a bucket when the motion of the ambulance made him sick.

Stiles didn’t remember arriving at the hospital.  He woke in the late evening when Melissa McCall opened the door to his hospital room.  He was wrapped in a cocoon of warm blankets with an oxygen cannula in his nose.  An IV line dripped fluid into his arm. He could see his father sitting in a chair in the corner reading from a police file.

Stiles tried to speak but his voice croaked instead of forming words.  Melissa walked quickly to his bedside and offered him a cup of ice chips.  The slowly melting water felt wonderful against his parched throat.  His headache was slightly better, but still extremely unpleasant.

“Do you remember why you are here?” asked Melissa kindly.

“There was a fire,” Stiles said weakly.  Melissa and his father looked relieved that they didn’t have to explain the situation to him.

“You passed out in the ambulance,” said Mrs. McCall.  “I will go get Dr. Deaton so he can give you more details.”

As Melissa left, John Stilinski crossed the room to sit on the edge of his son's bed.

Dr. Deaton arrived a minute later and, as usual, seemed more interested in asking questions than answering them. “Have you completely lost access to your spark?”

Stiles reached for the power that he had been trained to use since high school, but failed. “Yes, it feels like a slimy plug is keeping me from it.”

“Hmm, vervain and dill,” muttered Deaton.

“What?” The doctor was making no more sense than usual.

“You were poisoned with vervain and dill. It is an old brew to separate a spark or witch from their powers. Do you know how you ingested it?”

Stiles thought back over the morning.  All the food he had eaten had been prepared by himself or Boyd in the restaurant kitchen.  He had only ingested one thing after the restaurant opened for customers. “It was in my coffee.  I left Mr. Knowley alone with my coffee while I went to get menus.” Stiles was sick with the feeling that one of his neighbors had looked him in the eye and coldly worked towards murder.

“Yes, that would be a good way to block the taste,” mussed Dr. Deaton. “It wouldn’t take much.  Luckily the ingredients do no harm in addition to their magical effects.  It should wear off by tomorrow.”

“Excellent so I can go home.” Stiles wondered if he had a home to go back to.  Was his trailer torched along with the restaurant? His father had converted his old room to a guest room several years ago, but Stiles knew he would be more than welcome to claim it for any period of time. In fact, the Sheriff would probably insist.

“You have also inhaled wolfsbane smoke.  I would like to keep you overnight for observation.”

Stiles was tempted to argue, but attempting to sit up made his stomach roll.  Stiles breathed deeply to fight the nausea.  

“Good plan,” agreed the Sheriff as if he was still responsible for making Stiles medical decisions.  Actually, Stiles figured this was probably fair.  He had been dictating his fathers healthcare for years.

“A nurse will come by to check on him every four hours,” Dr. Deaton told the Sheriff.

“Would it be safe for him to talk to a deputy to make a statement?” the Sheriff enquired.

“Yes dad, I can totally make a statement,” answered Stiles, but the two older men ignored him.

“If it is very brief,” agreed Deaton. “Right now the best thing for him is sleep.

As Deaton left, the Sheriff called the station.  Stiles answered as many of Deputy Parrish’s questions as possible in the ten minutes his father allowed.  But few of his answers were very helpful.  He could tell his story and provide some educated guesses about the graffiti and poison, but he had no proof of any of it.  Deputy Parrish promised he would keep the Stilinski’s up to date on the investigation and left to try to get a warrant to arrest Mr. Knowley.

“You’ve recused yourself from the investigation?” Stiles asked his father.  

“Yes, when we catch the creeps that burned your restaurant I don’t want there to be any chance of them getting away with it, but I may do a bit of unofficial poking around to make sure Deputy Parrish finds all the relevant evidence.” The father and son shared a knowing look. “Would you like me to stay with you tonight?”

“No, I’m just going to sleep anyway,” Stiles responded.

His father leaned over and gave him a hug.  “I love you son.  Rest up.”

Stiles quickly discovered that hospitals are surprisingly difficult places to sleep.  The quiet footsteps outside his room and random beeps of equipment kept him from relaxing. When exhaustion finally overcame him, Stiles slept poorly until a nurse woke him from nightmares to check his vitals. After the 4AM nurse check, Stiles gave up on sleeping.  Despite limited rest, he was feeling mostly normal.

Someone, probably his father, had put his phone on the bedside table.  There were texts from the entire pack offering help and ordering him to call if he needed or wanted anything.  He sent a general reply that he was recovering as well as individual responses for Scott and Erica to read when they woke up. He was pulling up a web browser to see if the fire had hit the news when his door quietly opened to admit Peter Hale.

“Laura and Derek will be by later today to tell you their version of events, but I would like to share my version first." Peter walked sinuously into the room as he spoke and pulled up the chair to sit uncomfortably close to Stiles bed.

"I would rather hear the truth," responded Stiles warily. He had had less contact with Peter than the other Hales and was not sure he liked the older man.

"Oh, I think we all intend to tell the truth,” Peter mused.  “But there are several possible perspectives.”

"Did you know there would be a fire?" Stiles decided to get the most important question out of way first.

"No.” Peter said briskly. “Had I known I would certainly not have been caught in it. We knew the supernatural community of Beacon Hills would suffer an attack but we didn't know when or how.”

“You could have warned us.” Stiles said.

“Perhaps, but we lacked enough information to form a coherent and credible warning. Deucalion's wife is a woman of accurate, but sadly limited foresight.” Peter seemed annoyed by this fact. “The information we had was imprecise enough that Deucalion thought we should abandon Beacon Hills to its fate.  You should be grateful that Laura disagreed.”

“Grateful?” Stiles questioned.

“Laura and Decalion argued over whether the Hales returning to Beacon Hills would prevent the prophecy or ensure it,” Peter continued.

"Actually, I think you guys coming had little effect on the fire," Stiles said. “It was planned long before you returned to town. At most, your arrival affected the timing and expanded the list of victims."

"Perhaps," agreed Peter. "It is nice to be reminded of ones irrelevance.  But I always intended to focus more on the fallout than the actual event."

"What do you mean?" prompted Stiles.

"Laura, Cora, and Derek had complicated plans to integrate themselves into the community so they could prevent the attack or at least minimize harm." Peter rolled his eyes to express his disgust with this plan. "Laura thought your restaurant or the McCall Pack were the most likely targets.”

“Derek admitted Laura asked him and Cora to befriend me,” said Stiles.

“Yes, he appears to have gone above and beyond his original assignment,” agreed Peter with a leer. “I focused on maximizing the political impact should they fail.  It would make my life significantly easier if you were more naturally sympathetic.”

“Sorry no one likes Sparks,” said Stiles sarcastically.

“We can work on that later,” said Peter breezliy. “For now, we should focus on how this unfortunate incident can be spun for maximal benefit to the national supernatural rights movement.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “You are happy with this outcome.”

Peter frowned, “Actually a limited death toll including at least one human child would have been better, but we must work with what we have.  The sooner supernaturals completely win the fight for equity the fewer people will die in the long run.”

Stiles was shocked.  He could acknowledge a cold logic to Peters statements, but he could not imagine thinking that way. “You don’t care about the Beacon Hills supernatural community at all do you?”

“Not at the moment,” agreed Peter without shame. “You are more useful to me as a symbols than people, but that may change in the future.  It is up to Derek and Laura.”

Stiles glared. “I am not your political pawn. I just want to rebuild my restaurant and feed people. In fact, I intend to open for dinner tonight.”

“That angle should work quite nicely,” said Peter calmly.  “I don’t suppose you could convince some of your human customers to attend the grand re-opening.  The vegans would probably be more sympathetic than orthodox Jews.”

“Get out,” ordered Stiles.

Peter stood, but made no move towards the door. “About the treaty...” he began.

Stiles wanted to make a pithy comment about how allies share information, but he restrained himself. The fire really wasn’t the Hales fault and now that Scott was an Alpha the treaty was more important than ever.  “I will have Jackson draft a new version with expanded language about sharing information about potential threats for Alpha McCall and Alpha Hale to review.”  He felt it was important to emphasize that the treaty wording was ultimately under Alpha control not Peters.

“Also I am going to ask Jackson to put my restaurant back into McCall territory," Stiles added.

"That should be acceptable," agreed Peter.  He started walking towards the door then turned back with a smirk. “Count on the whole pack for dinner.”

Stiles internally seethed as he turned on his phone and started sending emails to arrange serving dinner with no kitchen or seating.  He worried that he was playing into Peters hands then justified to himself that this is what he would have done regardless. In a vague way, he hoped that something good could come out of the fire, but that didn’t change his plan to live his life and serve his community. Maybe if Stiles just ignored Peter he would go away.

Stiles Dad arrived at eight with breakfast and news that Mr. Knowley had been taken into custody.  Mr. Knowley had published a full confession and manifesto to a Human Rights message board as the fire was burning. However, he claimed to have acted alone.  Stiles surveillance cameras had picked up two men during the graffiti incident earlier in the week so Deputy Parrish was looking for at least one accomplice.

“You should stay inside and with people until the accomplice is caught,” the Sheriff suggested.

“No,” disagreed Stiles. “They attacked us in our safest place.  I am not going to hide.  Actually, you can help.  I am going to open the restaurant for dinner tonight.  If you help, you can have one of Allison’s bacon wrapped pheasants.”

The Sheriff looked tempted by the bribe. “How are you going to serve dinner without a kitchen?"

"We can grill," answered Stiles decisively. "I already sent an email to the restaurant mailing list asking to borrow equipment."

"Where are you going to get the food?"

"Isaac has a ton of produce ready. Allison and Chris managed to bring down a deer and some pheasants, and my food supplier said he could make a delivery." Stiles used his most reasonably persuasive voice. "I really want to do this."

"Fine," the Sheriff agreed with a sigh. "But you are still recovering so you are going to let Boyd do all the cooking and I get two pheasants wrapped in real pork bacon."

Stiles heard a laugh at the doorway and looked up to see Melissa McCall smiling cheerfully at them.

"If you are well enough to be plotting you are probably ready to get out of here," she said.

"Yes," said Stiles gratefully. "I am totally ready to go home."

"Just let me do a couple quick checks and then I will send Dr. Deaton by to release you."

By lunch time, Stiles was comfortably ensconced on a lawn chair ordering Scott’s pack around as they organized a growing pile of donations. Stiles was astounded and warmed by the generosity of his customers. Over a dozen regulars had brought by patio furniture or picnic blankets.  The owner of the local coffee shop had volunteered a case of disposable cups, plates, and cutlery. Isaac was out with his delivery truck picking up two grills.

As if that wasn't enough, people brought food. Half the people who donated furniture also brought by a dessert.  Apparently Stiles is going to have a bake sale.  Cam and two of his friends set up a vegan lemonade stand to go with it.

The Temple Sisterhood brought by two huge blue coolers filled with noodle kugels, blintzes, and parve matzo ball soup. The Rebbetzin (rabbi's wife) handed Stiles a bag of blue handled serving equipment and made him promise to keep the kosher food separate because the whole congregation would be there at dinner time to buy it back from him.  She dished Stiles up a large plate of food for lunch and sat next to him chatting cheerfully until he finished every bite.

Scott had abused his new Alpha authority to instruct the pack that Stiles was to remain seated at all times.  All the newly elevated betas took a sadistic joy in making sure their alpha’s orders were obeyed. Which was completely unnecessary because as far as Stiles knew he was fully recovered.  He was confident in this even if Scott refused to let him stand up and test it.

“Do all alphas go power mad when they first ascend?” Stiles asked Derek when he showed up in the midafternoon.

“Protecting the health of my Emissary is not going mad with power,” Scott yelled from where he was helping Isaac sett up the grill.  Stiles was still getting used to Scott’s improved hearing.

“I think I am going to go with Alpha McCall on this one,” agreed Derek.

Stiles glared, “You are supposed to agree with me.”

“My Alpha ordered me to show full respect to the new Alpha,” Derek responded calmly.  He looked around at the McCall pack and then turned back to Stiles with a hesitant expression on his face. “I heard you talked to Peter this morning.”

“Yep,” agreed Stiles succinctly. He had relayed the entire conversation to Scott as soon they arrived at the remains of the restaurant and then repeated the highlights for the rest of the pack.  Erica and Scott thought Peter was a creep, but Boyd saw a certain expedience to his point of view.  Jackson’s opinion was harder to determine but he did comment that Peter should be easy enough to work with.  Isaac was all too aware of the identity of the sacrificial human child and he was unlikely to forgive any time soon. Everyone agreed Cora and Derek couldn’t be blamed for following the reasonable orders of their Alpha and Laura should be given another chance.

“Do you have anything to add?” Stiles could see Erica attempting to look casual as she wandered closer.  This really was a terrible place to attempt to have a meaningful discussion.

Derek’s eyebrows scrunched up. “I was telling the truth two days ago.”

“When you admitted to lying?” questioned Stiles.

“I only lied about the spare clothes.” Derek glared at the eavesdropping werewolves. “Can we continue this discussion later?”

“No problem,” agreed Stiles to let Derek off easy.  He wondered what the odds were that it would ever be brought up again.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Derek offered.

“Do you object to touching meat?” asked Stiles

“No, I just don’t want to eat it.” Derek said.

“Wonderful,” said Stiles. “You can help Allison clean pheasants and wrap them in bacon.”  He took pleasure in assigning Derek the least pleasant task.  He knew he was going to forgive the other man for his own sake as well as the sake of his pack, but he figured he was allowed to be slightly petty first.

He was distracted by the arrival of what appeared to be Allison’s entire yoga class bearing a dizzying variety of casseroles and salads.  Many of the women had children in tow who attempted to buy out the bake sale for an afternoon snack.  Cam half-heartedly hawked his wares until he was invited to join the impromptu game the children were organizing in the field behind where the restaurant used to stand.  Stiles was uncertain of the rules, but it seemed to involve a lot of running between tables and yelling.

The difference in the views over Stiles two shoulders was slightly surreal.  To his left, arson investigators surveyed the ruin of his restaurant.  To his right, his friends worked cheerfully surrounded by children playing.  He supposed this was how a community came together to support its own and begin to heal.

By five, everything was ready.  Stiles was surprised to find that the mismatched blankets and outside furniture looked cheerfully eclectic.  Three long folding tables, borrowed from the local Unitarian church, groaned under donated food.  Isaac and Erica had tried to organize the food by dietary requirements, but it was impossible to maintain the restaurant's usual standards.  The only things Stiles was sure of was the leftmost table containing the kosher and vegan entrees.

Stiles customers didn't seem to care.  There was a steady stream of people to the grills and food tables.  By six, Stiles had to ask Derek to make an emergency run to the store to get more paper plates and silverware.  Most of the Sheriff's Department showed up a couple of minutes later with the news that the feds were taking over the investigation.  This was generally regarded as a good thing because meant the perpetrators would be charged under Federal hate crime legislation.  Also it protected the department and investigation from accusations of bias.

Stiles itched to jump up to greet people, help serve, and cook, but every time he twitched a member of his pack would bring someone over who wanted to talk to him.  

“Do you know when we will be able to take some ash from the fire?” asked Morgan, the High Priestess of the Beacon Hills coven.  “We have a working that will allow us scry for those that have ill will towards you.” Stiles was afraid the spell may not be specific enough to provide useful information, but he was grateful that they wanted to help.

“The arson investigator said he would probably finish his preliminary investigation by the end of the week.” answered Stiles.

Morgan looked disappointed. “The working would be most effective this Sabbat.”

“How much ash do you need?” asked Stiles.  The Priestess pulled a very small ceramic jar from her coach. “It would probably be okay for you to scrape up a small amount of ash as long as you are careful not to disturb anything and my Dad doesn’t catch you.”

“There is no need to sneak across police lines,” interrupted Gavin, a powerful young spark who possessed some telekinetic abilities. “I can get it for you.” Morgan handed over the jar.  Gavin held it in the palm of his hand and closed his eyes in concentration.  A minute later a thin stream of ash wound its way through the air and deposited itself in the jar.

“Your service to the Coven will not be forgotten,” Morgan said formally. She inclined her head to both Stiles and Gavin then left to rejoin her coven.

Gavin looked uncomfortable. “Sucks your place got burn down.” He was not exactly the king of social graces and proof positive the power did not always equal manners or maturity.

“Yep,” agreed Stiles.

“I’m gonna go get more food,” Gavin continued. “Let me know if I can help or anything.”

As soon as Gavin was out of earshot, the local vampire Elder stopped by to pompously pledge that should the authorities fail to bring the arsonists to justice his clan would finish the job. Stiles was partway through thanking the elder when the principal of Beacon Hills Elementary came over to invite Stiles to speak at an all school diversity assembly in September.  

Stiles didn’t see the Hales arrive, but he caught occasional glimpses of them as the evening progressed.  Peter and Laura circulated the crowd.  Laura had conversations with all of the supernatural leaders while Peter seemed to concentrate on the human guests.  Derek was kept busy helping Allison prep and grill. Cora assigned herself the job of assisting Erica serve customers.  

Stiles was listening to the Queen of the fae clan that lived in the Preserve detail her plans to hide the rebuilt restaurant from undeserving eyes when Cora strode purposely over with a plate of food.

“You haven’t eaten dinner yet.” she announced.

“I ate a snack at 4:45,” he protested.  Stiles and his father had eaten the first of the pheasants to come off the grill. They had been crispy, delicious, and totally worth the calories.  “And I’m not allowed to get up to get myself food.”

“We are starting to run out of venison and vegetables so I snagged you a plate.”  Stiles accepted the food gratefully while his mind boggled that there were enough people present to eat an entire deer. Granted many of the supernaturals ate more than humans, but the turnout was still far larger than expected.  If people hadn’t turned the event into a potluck, they would have run out of food.

“Thank you,” he said as he started eating.  The fae Queen made a disgusted face as he took his first bit of meat and quickly excused herself.

“Are you mad at me?” Cora asked bluntly.  “Peter said he thought you weren’t, but I wanted to double check.”

“No, the only people I blame are the people who set the fire,” Stiles said.  It seemed strange to realize he had known the Hale pack for less than a week. They already seemed like a part of Beacon Hills and his life.

“I’m glad to hear that,” said Laura as she joined them. “We are sorry we could not prevent this tragedy.  Please count on us to help you rebuild.”

“I appreciate the offer,” said Stiles.  “I hope we can have a less eventful treaty signing soon.”

“I heard Peter and Jackson debating new wording earlier this evening,” Laura said with a smile. “When I was speaking to the other supernatural leaders, I noticed that word of our foreknowledge does not appear to have spread.”

“It won’t,” assured Stiles.  “Alpha McCall decided that, at the moment, there was no benefit to allowing it to spread beyond the pack.” Stiles let the obvious implication stay unsaid. “Your pack should be welcomed by everyone except perhaps the vampires.”

Stiles and Laura chatted about all the people she should make sure to meet until Laura saw the Kitsune Matriarch waiting to speak to Stiles.

Boyd and Allison turned off the grills at eight, but it took almost an hour for everyone to leave. Stiles was starting to get tired so Erica and Boyd urged him to leave them with the cleanup.  They promised to do the bare minimum before going home.  Cleaning and returning all the borrowed items and counting the money could wait until the next day.

“Can I walk you home?” offered Derek.  Although Stiles trailer had not been burned, the windows had been smashed and the walls sprayed with graffiti.  Stiles had decided to stay with his father until he could be sure the graffiti contained nothing but hate and paint.

“Sure,” agreed Stiles. After sitting all day, he felt more than capable of the half mile walk. Behind Derek’s back, Cora gave him a thumbs up and Erica made a mildly obscene gesture. Stiles glared at both of them and refused Derek’s offer to help him up.  Stiles was many things, but he was not an 18th century maiden. As they walked to the sidewalk, Stiles tried to figure out what he wanted to say.  On one hand, Stiles life was in chaos and he was hesitant to add a confusing relationship with a man who hadn’t entirely earned his trust. On the other, Derek had worked hard all day without complaining and he was really hot.

“Just so you know, tonight does not count as dinner,” Derek began speaking before Stiles had finished organizing his thoughts.

“Good,” responded Stiles. “Because I’m staying in my Dad’s guest room and while I know many people have their first sexual experiences with parents sleeping in the next room I think most of them are teenagers and I am not so we aren’t doing it that way. Besides, I’m not sure I want to...with you. I want to in general” Derek looked slightly pained as he tried to detangle Stiles jumble of words.  Playing it back in his head, Stiles would be surprised if Derek managed to make sense out of any of it.

“Lets start over,” said Derek slowly. “I was ordered by my Alpha to make friends with you because we thought you may be in danger. While following those orders, I discovered that you are a totally awesome person.  I tried to seduce you because I want to date you and keep you safe, but I was kind of terrible at it.”

“Actually you were excellent at making me think naughty thoughts.  So many naughty thoughts, but I don’t know,” said Stiles. “I was totally planning to take you up on all the sex, but then some assholes set my restaurant on fire."

Stiles paused to gather his thoughts.  "I'm trying not to let some bastards change my outlook on life. Tonight did a lot to restore my faith in humanity."

"Are you telling me you need to take things slow or that you don’t want to see me?” asked Derek.

“I’m going to see you,” responded Stiles.  “We live in the same small town and our packs are going to work together.”

“That’s not what I meant,” said Derek. “Do you want to be friends, dates, or casual acquaintances.”

Stiles smiled.  It was kind of a relief to see that Derek was as awkward with this as he was. “How about friends that may date in the future?” proposed Stiles.

Derek nodded and looked relieved.  “I can live with that.  Are we good enough friends to go to lunch together later this week?”

“Yep,” agreed Stiles.  As he spoke they arrived in front of his father’s house. “We may even be good enough friends to hug goodnight.”  Derek moved forward and enveloped Stiles in a warm hug. He held Stiles firmly and nuzzled the side of Stiles face with his cheek.  Stiles squeezed his arms around Derek's back and enjoyed the comfort of being held close.  When Stiles started to relax his arms, Derek let go and stepped back.

“Thanks for letting me walk you home,” Derek said.  “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Bye,” Stiles answered with what was likely a ridiculous looking wave and walked into his father’s house.  Tomorrow he would make lists of the millions of tasks needed to start the rebuilding process.  Tonight, he would hide in the room that used to be his and grieve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for reading, kudos, and commenting. I had a ton of fun writing this story and I am overwhelmed by the response. I look forward to playing more in this universe. The sequel and possibly a couple of prequel one shots will be added to the Stiles Restaurant series. Feel free to subscribe to me or the series to get future updates. 
> 
> -Anika


	8. Epilogue and new beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The website went up in the early hours of the morning.

[ ](http://imgur.com/Gd8rPaM)

_< text from graphic>_

**A ‘Human Rights’ arsonist destroyed our restaurant**

For almost five years, Stiles Restaurant has been a vital part of Beacon Hills.  We serve healthy, environmentally friendly food with a side of social justice.  Our restaurant takes pride in meeting the dietary requirements of almost every human and supernatural.

**Goal: $120,000** This money will be used to purchase outdoor cooking equipment and seating so we can continue to serve a limited menu while rebuilding the main restaurant.  We also plan to purchase outdoor heaters, dishes, and cutlery.

**Stretch Goal: $500,000** We would like to expand the services the restaurant provides.  Extra money will allow us to add a community room to host functions and exercise classes.

**Contact:** Peter Hale betaphale@werescape.com

*******************************************

The website went up in the small hours of the morning, when Stiles and the rest of the McCall pack was asleep.  Stiles first learned of it almost eight hours later.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi All,
> 
> I am excited to start posting the sequel to this story. I will post weekly on Tuesday mornings. The story is mostly complete so I should be able to post regularly. I promise food, feels, and fun. First chapter posts tomorrow :)
> 
> Anika

**Author's Note:**

> Hi All,
> 
> Thank you for reading! When I first started posting, writing was 90% complete. I plan to post twice a week on Mondays and Thursdays. Thank you to Kamara Black for beta reading. All mistakes are mine. I am on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ankabit). feel free to come by and say hi :).
> 
> Anika


End file.
